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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479644">Simple Wants</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshimochi/pseuds/moshimochi'>moshimochi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sexuality Crisis, basically balthus realizes he has the hots for yuri and jerks it out, just so the tags dont mislead you the oral and anal sex are in balthus's spicy daydreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:39:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshimochi/pseuds/moshimochi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthus knows he’s a simple man with simple wants and needs. Coin, drinking, brawling, sunshine, women - the more the merrier! In essence, he values the uncomplicated pleasures of life. Indulgences he doesn’t need to think hard about, just lose himself in the wonders the Goddess has bestowed upon mortals, such as good booze and hot babes. </p><p>So why is it that he can’t stop thinking about the most complicated person he’s ever met?<br/>---</p><p>Written for the Aphelion NSFW side of Solaris: A Balthus Zine!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Simple Wants</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>major thanks to SerotoninShift for beta reading (°◡°♡).:｡ i owe you my life!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the small things that Yuri does that drive Balthus crazy - how he bats his glittered eyelashes and pouts his glossed lips like a petulant child while goading Balthus into a stupid bet, how his brow scrunches when he pulls rank and uses a commandeering tone that makes Balthus relfexively hand over his steadfast loyalty, how he throws his head back and laughs with glee when idiot bandits waltz right into their waiting trap. <br/><br/>Yuri just has that kind of effect on people -  Balthus has heard him credit his alluring aura to the charm he was born with, courtesy of his mother (who Balthus can only imagine must be a real babe), but Balthus lays awake thinking one especially drafty night in Abyss that Yuri must have put some sort of dark magic curse on him. <br/><br/>Balthus has seen the way that oblivious patrons in the Wilted Rose Inn fawn over Yuri, tripping over themselves for every one of Yuri’s fake smiles. Yuri no longer plays this kind of underhanded game with nobles, but Balthus thinks he might flirt with a trader or soldier, gradually wearing down their guard through tittering laughs and tankards of cheap ale, until they slip and give Yuri some valuable piece of intel that he’ll mentally file away for later. Even when he’s at the bar, Yuri is still constantly working to strengthen the cards in his hand to protect Abyss and pick apart other potential cards at play. <br/><br/>Speaking of cards, Balthus is losing his game miserably. Hapi swipes his chips off of his side of the table to her growing pile with the indifference of someone who’s bored of winning already. <br/><br/>“Wow B, you’re pretty terrible at this game.” Hapi says, shuffling the deck. <br/><br/>“Damn it,” he says, rubbing his face with dismay. <br/><br/>One of the other Abyssinians who joins their games - an underling in Yuri’s gang - plops himself next to Balthus and pats him on the back with sympathy. <br/><br/>“Maybe if you stopped making eyes at the waitress you’d have more money at the end of the night,” he tells Balthus helpfully. <br/><br/>“Ew,” Hapi says, and immediately gets up, probably to go find wherever Constance is tonight. “I’d say you can pay out later, but I know you won’t,” she adds, and then leaves the tavern without saying goodbye, but that’s Hapi for ya. <br/><br/>The thing is though, he didn’t get destroyed in cards by Hapi because he’s ogling at the waitress (the one he’s been flexing his biceps at for the past few game nights) - it’s damned Yuri who he can’t help sneaking glances at. His mind feels strangely preoccupied as he spots Yuri put his delicately painted nails on the arm of an unsuspecting myrmidon who’s about to spill his life story into Yuri’s awaiting palm.  <br/><br/>“You must be quite the warrior to collect all those scars, friend,” Yuri coos to the man, running an appreciative finger up his arms again. “Who put a nice guy like you up to so many fights?” <br/><br/>And just like that, information about the myrmidon’s boss, his battalion, and their movements tumble out of the poor guy’s mouth like a falling stack of domino pieces.</p><p>While this encounter is going predictably, Balthus feels a twinge of something unpleasant in his chest while watching this dance he’s seen unfold a million times. He knows Yuri doesn’t really care about whatever this myrmidon is blabbering to him about, but as he watches Yuri’s painted nails scratch against the other man’s unimpressive bicep, Balthus feels the room run hotter. </p><p>His own muscles are so much bigger than that guy’s! </p><p>There’s a <em> bang </em> that draws his attention back to his immediate surroundings - his jittering leg accidentally rammed straight into the underside of the table. Balthus can’t really register the following burst of pain, because Yuri seems to have finally noticed him from across the room. That stupid myrmidon is still vying for his attention, but Yuri, the damn tease, ignores him in favor of twisting his pink shiny lips and giving Balthus a coy smile. <br/><br/>It’s getting really hot in here, right? <br/><br/>One of those lavender half-lidded eyes drops into a sultry wink, and Balthus nearly scrambles out of the tavern like a wolf with its tail between its legs.</p><p>---</p><p>Most of Balthus’s problems can be solved by beating the shit out of something. If it’s a physical problem, there’s nothing that he can’t use his brawn to overcome - bandits, demonic beasts, other idiots who challenge him in the Abyssian brawling ring, you name it! Even more abstract problems like the constant anxiety of bounty hunters nipping at his heels, the pain lingering in his chest following Aelfric’s betrayal, and worries about his mother or half-brother’s well-being that sit heavy on his lungs; these are all problems which can be assuaged by whaling on a punching bag. <br/><br/>Yet getting his knuckles bloodied on a training dummy isn’t helping with the way his thoughts keep turning to Yuri’s <em> aggravating </em> face, a suckerpunch to his mind that the usual tactics of distraction aren’t coping with. <br/><br/>But he’s never one to back down from a challenge, so he punches until the wraps around his hands fall off in tatters, and every muscle is groaning with exhaustion. Finally, any unwelcome thoughts of his House Leader and <em> friend </em> are vanquished, and while he would love to bask in the glory of victory and gloat, he would prefer to collapse in his dorm room bed than the dingy halls of Abyss.</p><p>He tries not to acknowledge that Yuri’s bunk remains empty as he pulls off his pants (his shirt was discarded hours ago, in case anyone came by the training room and wanted to enjoy a free show). None of the other guys he shares the room with make a peep as his bunk creaks under the weight of his too-big body - heh, they’re probably passed out drunk after tonight’s festivities. It’s only a matter of time before the sweet relief of sleep embraces Balthus and pulls him under, giving him a welcome respite from the emotional turmoil of today’s events. </p><p>---</p><p>
  <em> The first thing he notices that’s different is that his dorm room bedsheets have upgraded; he turns his cheek to feel soft silk instead of scratchy wool, similar to the luxurious quality of bedding he grew up with in a noble house. When he breathes in deeply, it’s not the scent of his childhood home, but something floral and magnetic. It overwhelms his senses, and all he wants to bury himself in the scent, get drunk off of it.  </em>
</p><p><em> Then there’s the warmth: engulfing him, smoldering in the pit of his stomach and radiating throughout his body, fighting off the perpetual chill of the Abyssian air. It’s hot, even - a burn so hot it borders on the edge of too much, where he can’t decide if he wants to both shy away from the heat or continue to bask in it, like a brilliant sun. </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> And if he focuses, there are other sensations too - the sharp impress of nails on the inside of his thighs, spreading him apart. Wetness and pressure around his cock, working him to hardness. His blood is pounding in his ears, scorching his face before rushing downwards, as he groans and pushes his fist into silky smooth hair.  </em></p><p>
  <em> He pushes the person down with barely any strength and they easily obey, taking him into their mouth and wrapping soft lips around his tip. Balthus can feel how the plush of their lips lightly catches against the sensitive skin of his cock, smearing a sticky gloss up and down his shaft while they bob their head.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s damn good, Balthus hasn’t had good head like this in ages. The person is deft with their tongue, tracing over the veins and ridges of his cock while continuing to take him deeper into the velvet fever of their mouth. Balthus chokes back a surprised groan when he feels himself hit the back of their throat - an impressive feat, because Balthus isn’t modest about the fact that he’s well-endowed - and the figure doesn’t stutter or shy away from him. Instead, they press their nails into the muscles of his legs harder, leaving kitten scratches across his legs while they continue to suckle on him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The blend of pain and pleasure is so exquisite that Baltus feels his abs clench and thighs tremble against his will, shaking the foundations of his self-restraint. He’s enough of a gentleman to try not to buck his hips or yank on his partner’s hair too roughly, but the very limits of his good manners are being tested when he feels the barest hint of teeth along the edge of his cock, another jolt of sharpness to keep him tittering on the edge of coming.  </em>
</p><p><em> “Fuck…” He groans, feeling himself arch into the other’s accepting mouth and hands. He’s slept with dozens of women before, but nobody has ever bested him to the point where he feels so coiled tight, like the tension of a drawn bowstring. “You’re really...” he starts, pausing to hiss when a deft hand cups his swollen balls, “really one of a kind.” </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> He hasn’t been able to lift his head from the lavender-scented sheets, but he has to see what those lips look like while sinking down on his cock before it’s all over. He gathers the strength to push himself up on one arm when- </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Periwinkle eyes, twinkling at him. Yuri winks at him before diving down to the hilt of Balthus’s cock, and he’s finished before he can call Yuri’s name. </em></p><p> </p><p>There’s no morning sun to rouse Balthus, only the perpetual darkness of Abyss and the sticky-sheen feeling of shame clinging to him. </p><p>---</p><p>Balthus knows he’s a simple man with simple wants and needs. Coin, drinking, brawling, sunshine, women - the more the merrier! In essence, he values the uncomplicated pleasures of life. Indulgences he doesn’t need to think hard about, just lose himself in the wonders the Goddess has bestowed upon mortals, such as good booze and hot babes. </p><p>So why is it that he can’t stop thinking about the most complicated person he’s ever met? </p><p>Prior to this morning, he would consider himself to be strictly a ladies’ man. Sure, he doesn’t mind having admirers of any gender - he knows his slammin’ good looks aren’t exclusive to the ladies. Men have eyes too! <br/><br/>But he’s never been interested in reciprocity with men. He’s not into that, yeah? <br/><br/>Right?</p><p>That must be why he feels like he can’t look Yuri in the eyes the next morning when they have  their morning lessons with Professor Byleth. The dream he had feels weird yet invasive, because he doesn’t like Yuri like <em> that. </em> He would never be like the fools who drool after Yuri.</p><p>In the back of his mind, he dimly registers Byleth lecturing on something like tactics and formations on the battlefield, but his eyes linger on Yuri sitting at the desk. One white boot is primly crossed over his knee as Yuri listens to Byleth with rapt attention. Heh, Yuri was probably a much better student than he was back in the day.</p><p>It’s the briefest motion that makes Balthus feel like Constance hit him with a freezing spell and fire magic all at once, sending a blistering shiver rolling down his spine. Yuri absentmindedly twirls a soft purple lock of hair between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear, exposing the slightest hint of the nape of his neck. </p><p>Yuri’s uniform keeps his body hidden away under fastened buttons and laces, high collars and long sleeves. Of course, with his fluttery eyelashes and way with words, Yuri’s never needed anything from the chin down to capture the eyes of anyone who walks by him.</p><p>But that smallest sliver of pale skin was like a flash of vulnerability exposed just for Balthus. Sure, it wasn’t intentional. But the thought that it could be intentional, Yuri willingly stripping away his layers of defenses and armor just for Balthus, only Balthus… <br/><br/>Now that’s an idea. </p><p>He isn’t even sure what topic Byleth is talking about now, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is what it would be like if he pressed his lips into that spot, breathing in Yuri’s scent so deeply he feels tipsy. He wonders how Yuri would react if he grazed his teeth against the spot, mouthed at it, suckling a blooming mark against it dark enough to match his hair. The smug thrill that would titter in Balthus’s chest if he could turn one of Yuri’s snide remarks into a quiet whine if he kissed his pulse point while palming at his- <em> Wait. </em></p><p> </p><p>Balthus has it bad. <em> Real bad</em>.</p><p>---</p><p>His uncharacteristically uncertain expression is reflected back at him in a pool of pine-needle tea. Despite the wafting earthy aroma that reminds him of home, it fails to quell his nerves. He takes the delicate porcelain cup with hesitancy, like hands that don't belong holding so delicate and pretty.<br/><br/>Professor Byleth, ever watchful, picks up on Balthus’s strange mood immediately. <br/><br/>“Something on your mind?” he asks, setting his own teacup on the table. <br/><br/>“Heh, something like that...” Balthus says, unsure of what to say. This is weird, right? Maybe he should go back to the training arena and punch the shit out of something. <br/><br/>Byleth doesn’t probe any further, content with the awkward silence settling over them. Hapi calls him “Chatterbox,” which Balthus finds funny as hell, but he’s not sure if Byleth has ever cracked a smile at the joke. Despite the professor’s uncanny stare and near-perpetual silence (except while giving long lectures on intricacies of sword work), there’s still something alluring about him. Maybe it’s that his analytic stare never feels judgmental towards his students. He doesn’t have a bad face, either. <br/><br/>Kind of pretty to look at, actually. Yeah. <br/><br/>Wait. <br/><br/><em> Shit! </em> <br/><br/>Does he have a <em> type </em> in men? Is it not <em> just </em> Yuri? <br/><br/>Bastard. Yuri’s completely poisoned his brain, he’s even thinking other men are cute now. Yuri’s really in for it the next time they spar. <br/><br/>“Balthus?” <br/><br/>Oh, right. He probably looks real crazy right now, all of these thoughts running through his head. Holst used to bust his chops for always wearing his heart on his sleeve - he’s never been good at keeping his emotions from painting themselves across his face, unlike Professor. Or Yuri. <br/><br/>Ah, Goddess. All of his thoughts keep circling back to him. <br/><br/>“Sorry pal, just feeling... distracted.” <br/><br/>Byleth audibly sips his tea. <br/><br/>“Like, you ever...” Balthus rubs his hand on the back of his neck, wishing he could declare his feelings to the world like Constance. <br/><br/>But trusting his instincts have gotten him this far, yeah? </p><p>He sighs, braces himself. “I’ll just come right out and say it. I like Yuri.”<br/><br/>He says it, out loud, smack dab in the middle of Garreg Mach’s garden area, right out in the open! Bam! His heart beats wildly, and this really is no different than brawling a bad guy.  He can take on anything, that’s why he’s the Almighty King of Grappling! <br/><br/>Byleth blinks. “Yes, he’s a good friend to you.” <br/><br/>Damn it. <br/><br/>“Uh- yeah!” Balthus laughs, beginning to sweat. “But I meant that I-“ Oh Goddess, is Byleth going to make him say that he “like likes” Yuri? He’s ridiculously into Yuri? He daydreams about Yuri like a schoolboy with a crush? He’d sooner die by the claws of a demonic beast than endure the mortification of having to put his embarrassing thoughts into words in front of Byleth. <br/><br/>Byleth graces Balthus with one of his rare smiles, barely a hint of an upturn of his lips. “I knew what you meant. I was only joking.” <br/><br/>“You-!” If they weren’t in public with a rather fancy tea table separating them, Balthus would charge forward and give Byleth the noogie of a lifetime. “You really know how to make a guy sweat, pal,” Balthus huffs with a laugh. He wants to chastise Byleth to read the room, but that would be a vain effort. Byleth, Hapi, and that guy Linhardt should make a club for people who just <em> say </em> shit. <br/><br/>“Sorry,” Byleth says, not looking very sorry at all. “Why does this worry you?” <br/><br/>Besides for his well-known proclivities for women being suddenly shaken, there’s a million other reasons Balthus can barely begin to count or think about. </p><p>Because this feels like he wants more with Yuri than just a quick fuck, but he doesn’t know the first thing about courting another man.</p><p>Because he doesn’t want Yuri to see him like the fool that he is, another suitor drooling at his heels. <br/><br/>Because he’s terrified of screwing this up and ruining their friendship, ruining everything. <br/><br/>Instead, he opts for an answer that accompanies everything. </p><p>“Because he’s <em> Yuri?</em>” <br/><br/>Byleth looks genuinely confused and not just messing with him this time. “And this upsets you?” <br/><br/>“I’m not upset, but it’s obvious this would never work. He’s the <em> Boss</em>,” Balthus stresses for emphasis. “He’s got way too much going on with Abyss to give a second thought about anything else.” </p><p>And even if Yuri did have time to daydream about boys, which apparently Balthus has the time for (against his better judgement), why would Yuri pay him a second glance? Yuri has never seemed impressed by Balthus's rougish charm or taken him up the offer to watch him train - maybe Yuri’s type is more put-together and pristine, someone who reflects his own polished and bedazzled appearance. Someone who can keep up with his cunning and grace. Maybe even someone more noble.<br/><br/>“I’m unsure if I agree with that,” Byleth says, reaching for a sugar cookie. “Yuri’s a student who’s talented at multitasking. Surely he could care about two things at once.” <br/><br/>Balthus grunts around a bite of a cookie but remains utterly unconvinced. <br/><br/>“Want to see if I can drink a second cup of tea in one go?” Balthus says, attempting to change the subject. <br/><br/>Byleth sighs and evenly pours another cup. </p><p>-----</p><p>No matter how hard Balthus tries to swallow down and repress his feelings, the tumult under his skin reaches a boiling point when he returns to his bedchambers that evening.</p><p>He’s tired of running - he’s the star grappler of the underground, he never turns his back on a challenge! This isn’t too different from tackling down a demonic beast - just hit his feelings with a sucker punch before it knows what’s coming!</p><p>He flops onto the bed above the covers, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his bare stomach. Thankfully the other cots in the dorm are unoccupied - Yuri and his other cronies must be out taking care of a job tonight. It took awhile for Balthus to realize, but everyone else who sleeps in the room has ties to Yuri’s gang. He surmises it might be a safety thing for Yuri, that he only sleeps comfortably next to those he knows won’t double cross him with a dagger in the night. <br/><br/>Despite all of his teasing, that means Yuri trusts Balthus too, right?<br/><br/>Balthus wonders how that trust might extend into the bedroom if he ever managed to woo Yuri -  there’s something about the thought of the untouchable leader of the underground’s most fearsome gang welcoming Balthus into his bed that draws his hand down under the edge of his breeches. </p><p>Going commando has many benefits, and easier access for jerking off wasn’t an intended one, but Balthus ain’t complaining. </p><p>He huffs in surprise when he’s already half-hard in his pants just from dwelling on how Yuri might be in bed - whether he’d shed his protective exterior and let Balthus take care of him, let Balthus hold him and suck appreciative marks down the column of his throat, marring his pale skin. Maybe his icy guard would melt as Balthus kisses him, showing Yuri he’s not just a brute with good looks, and the women flock to him because he’s equally skilled in the brawling ring or in the bedsheets. His cock twitches at the picturesque scene forming in his mind; Yuri on his back with his hair splayed against the pillows, staring up at Balthus with sparkling half-lidded eyes. </p><p>Balthus might not know the exact mechanics of having sex with another man, but it doesn’t take a scholar to surmise that fitting his palms around Yuri’s delicately tapered waist and rutting against soft skin would feel damn good. His fingers properly wrap around himself at the thought of sliding his body against Yuri’s, using his weight to pin the smaller man against the mattress and chase his pleasure. </p><p>What kind of sounds would Yuri make? Balthus has always appreciated his louder lovers who know how to lavish his ego with praise, but the quiet ones are good too - they make Balthus work for what he wants to hear. Yuri might be like that, he thinks while thumbing himself around the head of his dick, trying to hold back noises until Balthus with his tenacity wins him over. They call Yuri the Savage Mockingbird - wouldn’t it be divine to be the one who makes him sing? <br/><br/>And while imagining a blushing Yuri to thrust against makes his dick fatten up in the palm of his hand, another thought enters into his mind and rings with near-painful insistence - what if Yuri was the exact opposite? Maybe he would pull rank, lean fully into his domineering side that suggests insolence will be met with cutthroat intolerance. The mere suggestion of Yuri commanding Balthus to keep quiet and touch him, demanding and not asking how he wants to be pleasured, makes Balthus’s hips excitedly stutter into  his fist. </p><p>Yet another self-discovery - his dick is <em> really </em> into the concept of Yuri bossing him around. Balthus throws his free arm over his forehead as chases his pleasure further, letting himself go into the fantasy.</p><p>Yuri would straddle his lap, one hand tightly gripped on his jaw and the other giving a harsh tug on the chains Balthus wears around his neck. Yuri might use the chain to pull Balthus up to his face, smearing his glossed lips down the side of his neck before nipping at his pulse. That would be Yuri - drawing him in with a sweet allure but stinging him when he least expects it.</p><p>The hand on his face drifts lower until he scratches down the panes of his abs - they don’t have the same bite as Yuri’s painted nails would, but the thought of Yuri leaving burning cat scratches up his body makes his blood boil. The thought of Yuri claiming Balthus, marking him as <em> Yuri's, </em> sends Balthus scrabbling to squeeze the base of his dick before it’s over too soon. He’s never been a patient man, but this fantasy is something he wants to milk every second of, and hey - he knows well enough that even imaginary Yuri would never let him off the hook so easily. <br/><br/>No, Yuri is a master strategist, he would make calculated strokes and little circular grinds of his ass against Balthus’s dick until Balthus would beg him for permission to release. He could picture the way Yuri might bend over to whisper in his ear, pale purple hair curtaining the side of his face. <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> “I’m unimpressed by your stamina, friend,” </em> Balthus can nearly hear him goading, painted lips catching on the shell of Balthus’s ear. <em> “Is your age catching up to you?” </em></p><p>And Balthus, ever one to rise up to a challenge, would grab those skinny hips with bruising strength and grind him even harder against his length. </p><p>
  <em> “You haven’t seen anything yet, pal.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Oh?” </em> Balthus can all-too-easily imagine that judgemental look and cocked eyebrow, but the effect might be softened if Yuri’s plush thighs are trembling around him. <em> “You plan on properly bedding me?” </em></p><p>And <em> fuck </em> , isn’t that a great idea? He’s starting to build up a rhythm now, as the precome dribbling from the tip of his cock helps the glide of his fist match the tempo of his mood. <br/><br/><em> “Lucky for you, I’m a quick study,” </em> Balthus would say, reaching back to press his thumb into the cleft of Yuri’s ass. Not penetrating, just enough to stimulate and feel a thrill in his chest when Yuri’s skin turns to gooseflesh. <em> “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at learning with my hands.”  </em></p><p>But perhaps Yuri, who always has a plan, would have other ideas on how the evening would progress. Balthus might pull away his hand to find it slick with glistening oil, making the delightful discovery that Yuri already prepared himself earlier in the evening.<br/><br/>Hey, it’s a little unrealistic, but a man can dream!</p><p><em> Goddess</em>, the sight of Yuri angling himself and sinking down on Balthus’s cock would be picturesque enough to hang in the monastery cathedral if it wasn’t filthy enough to have any onlooker burn in the fires of Aillel. </p><p>Outside of his fantasy, a hiss breaks free from Balthus’s lips while he strokes himself with desperation, losing his sense of control over his own body. Sharing a room with other dudes and being on the run for awhile meant that Balthus, while never particularly gifted in the art of self-control, knows how to keep his mouth shut when he’s trying to get off. Nothing would be a bigger mood killer than a bounty hunter walking in on him with his hand down his pants. </p><p>Despite this, he has to turn and crush his face into the pillow to halt the groans that threaten to creep out of his throat. Again - it’s always Yuri giving him a run for his money, never letting him catch a break. </p><p>He feels himself start to crack apart as his fantasy turns into a blur of moments within the scene - their bodies sliding against each other, Yuri’s nails scraping the back of his neck as he bears down onto his cock even deeper, nearly drowning Balthus with an overwhelming warm, wet <em> heat </em>. It’s equal parts frightening and exhilarating how Yuri takes him apart - the Yuri in his dreams would never need to demand Balthus’s full attention, he’d be a fool to look away for even a moment. In some ways, he’s like the sun they so seldom see down in Abyss, warming Balthus to his core and threatening to burn if anyone dares to get too close. Yet in other ways, Yuri could be the moon - illuminating the darkness, absolutely divine. </p><p>The mere fantasy of holding that man in his arms with such suffocating intimacy, close enough to hear his most vulnerable noises pressed against his chest, or kiss him like he’s a half-dead man starving for it, is enough to send Balthus into a tailspin he can’t recover from.<br/><br/>He bites into the pillow with the lingering desire that it was a pale shoulder instead, while the rest of his thoughts are muddled by the rapidly building pressure in his gut. In a perfect world, he and Yuri would be alone - not only in their dorm, but away from the crowded underground where sounds echo in the alleyways which are all populated by light sleepers. If they were alone, he could relish the resounding slap of Yuri’s ass against his thighs on each bounce, the way the creaky bed bolsters every thrust, and especially any sound Yuri might make with his head tipped back as he gets lost in the moment. Balthus bites his lip so hard it might crack, because Goddess forbid he cries out either in person or in his fantasy, because he feels like he might die if he misses out on the way Yuri’s quivering breaths are becoming increasingly pitched higher, <em> higher- </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> With a strangled gasp against fabric, Balthus’s climax is ripped out of him with desperate tugs, with the same crackling force and blinding power as lightning magic. His hips buck violently against the bed as he keeps stroking himself, desperate to drain every drop of tension until this maddening arousal is pulled out of him entirely. The mental image of emptying himself into Yuri’s body is impressed into his eyelids as he scrunches them, reaching his end with a final thrust into his soaked palm. <br/><br/>When he groggily manages to lift his head from the pillow, he’s struck with a sudden sense of clarity. While orgasm typically brings a general sense of emptiness in his mind - <em> emptier than usual</em>, Yuri would say - this time he’s struck by the absence of specific thoughts that had been plaguing him for the past few days. Entirely gone is the residue of resistance towards his feelings for Yuri, as if his body realized that he’s far past the point of no return, so he might as well lean fully into - <em> whatever </em> is. <br/><br/>As he catches his breath, not giving a damn how his hand is resting against the sticky mess he’s made of his abs, he realizes that a crush might be too innocent to describe how he feels for Yuri. It’s neither simple infatuation or <em> just </em> lust - though that component is certainly there, evidenced by the way his brain turned to mush from just fantasizing about getting his dick wet with Yuri.</p><p>This feeling is confounding and elusive, similar to the subject of this attention. </p><p>Regardless, Balthus is not a man of words, he’s a man of action! Like always, he’ll figure out his own way for dealing with this problem. If he puts his whole chest into it, Balthus is sure he’ll find a way to get Yuri into his bed for real next time.<br/><br/></p><p>Balthus may be a simple man, but when it comes to Yuri, he’s developing a taste for the finer things in life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i feel like my most notable fic remains the komaeda-masturbation fic so i figured hey, why not return to my roots?<br/>thank you so much for reading!!! ❤ if you liked it plz feel free to leave a comment if you wanna, or you can find me at m0shim0chi on twit dot com!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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